


Not Just A Pretty Face

by cleo4u2



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Howling Commandos, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: The First Avenger, Flirty!Howard, Jealous!Steve, M/M, Missing Scene, Rough Sex, Tent Sex, flirty!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: Written for the Not Without You fanbook:Steve does something stupid on a mission and Bucky has to save him with a little help from Howard Stark.





	Not Just A Pretty Face

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the one and only Glow Cloud, [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile) \- ALL HAIL - and a lovely editor I'm not sure wants to be mentioned here. I learned so much; thank you.

“Are you sure we can’t get any closer?” Howard asked for what felt to Bucky like the hundredth time. 

Bucky was perched on a cliff ledge eight hundred yards from the train depot Hydra was using to supply several of their bases. Colonel Phillips had ordered the Commandos to blow the lines leading into and out of the depot to slow distribution of the weapons Hydra had been producing en masse. The mission should have been an easy one, all things considered. Go in, blow stuff up, get out again.

Then Howard had decided to tag along.

“It’s going to be difficult to get a real idea of how their weapons work from all the way back here.”

Bucky sighed. So did Dum Dum, Monty, and Jim, the Howling Commandos Steve had assigned to guard Howard while he got a look at some Hydra weapons. After tinkering with their ammunition, he wanted to see it in action. The Colonel had approved his request since it had sounded very scientific, but Bucky thought the millionaire was just bored. 

That would have been fine, really, and any other day he would have been happy to babysit. Bucky thought the other guys wouldn’t have minded, either, but now Steve was wandering into a Hydra train depot with only Gabe and Dernier because the SSR couldn’t afford to lose Howard. Howard, who would not stop distracting him with idle chatter. Not to mention, if Howard got what he wanted, they’d have a real firefight on their hands. There would be no reinforcements, either. They were behind enemy lines, no one to call if they got in over their heads. Sure, Bucky was watching Steve’s back through his scope, but the train yard was so cluttered he was next to useless.

“If I’d known we’d be so far from the action that I’d only see anything through these binoculars, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Captain’s orders,” Dum Dum drawled. “Not like we’re any happier babysitting.”

A flash of blue and white in Bucky’s scope, and he caught sight of Steve, Dernier, and Gabe creeping from the tree line, down the slope, to the edge of the depot. Since they were down three guys, the plan was stealth. If no one noticed them enter, no one should notice them leave, and then the bombs would go off. Stealth, which meant Bucky couldn’t fire on any Hydra goons until after everything went tits up. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Howard snapped.

“What you need,” Jim said slowly, “is to stop distracting our sniper.”

The calm in Jim Morita’s voice was deceiving, as Bucky well knew. The man had a “don’t fuck with me” look as intimidating as Bucky’s, a stare that promised pain, and Bucky didn’t have to look to know he was using it on Howard now. Bucky was Steve’s only back-up and Jim knew it. Not that he was much use as he watched Steve, Gabe, and Dernier slip into the depot and disappear behind a train car. 

Bucky cursed.

“I didn’t say anything,” Howard insisted.

Resisting the desire to roll his eyes, Bucky swept his scope from left to right, right to left, until the familiar blue cowl popped into view once more. Releasing his held breath slowly, Bucky followed the team’s progress between warehouses to the parked Hydra train. Then he lost sight of them again as they slipped between the stationary boxcars.

Pulling his face from the scope, Bucky wiped at the sweat beading his brow, then pressed his eye back in place. There was still no sign of Steve, but one of the train car sidings slid open and a platoon of Hydra soldiers hopped out. Their black uniforms, goggles, and glowing blue weapons were menacing enough that no one would mistake them for belonging to anyone else, but Bucky wasn’t worried. He had seen Steve take out as many men all on his own. Steve would be fine.

Okay, so Bucky was worried. Not that he’d say as much to Steve or the guys. Steve needed all the confidence he could get with his new gig, and the guys didn’t need to see Captain America being babied. It was just hard to watch his lover, once so breakable, do stupid things like invade a Hydra train depot without backup. Even with the supersoldier serum, Steve was still breakable.

At least, they were pretty sure he was breakable. It wasn’t like anyone really knew what they’d done to him.

The first sign that something had gone wrong was the flash of red and blue Bucky spotted in the corner of his scope. When he followed it, he found Steve attempting to break into the depot’s office, probably set on gathering intel.

Which would have been fine if he were staying on task and there weren’t a squad of Hydra muscle headed toward Dernier and Gabe. 

“Steve,” Bucky muttered, “the fuck’re you doing?”

Behind him, Dum Dum sighed heavily, but that was the only sound as the tension in the air ratcheted up. Bucky swung his scope back towards the last place he had seen Dernier and Gabe, but there was no sign of his guys or the goons. From this distance, there was no chance of hearing any shouting, either. The only clue Bucky would have that anything had gone wrong was a gunshot.

Licking his lips, Bucky kept his breathing even, steady. In and out. In and out, letting his fear, anxiety, and apprehension flow out of him with every breath. 

Tracking back to the depot’s main building, he saw no sign of Steve. Returning to looking for Dernier, Gabe, or the Hydra soldiers, he found more nothing. Nothing at all, just boxcars, train tracks, and dirt. If Bucky hadn’t seen them enter, he wouldn’t have known anyone was there.

Bucky breathed in. He kept his eye to his scope, searching for a target, an ally, movement of any kind. Exhaling slowly, he wrapped his finger around the trigger guard to keep it from the trigger itself. He inhaled again, swung the rifle past boxcars, empty tracks, dirt, and back to the depot in time to see Steve climb back out the window.

“Just do the job,” Bucky murmured, as if Steve could hear him.

For a moment, it seemed as if Steve had. He disappeared behind the train cars, returned to sight, then slowed to a stop. The shield didn’t come up, and Bucky had to remember to breathe. Slow, careful, even, disciplined. 

Then Steve dropped his shield, and Bucky stopped breathing because Steve was putting his hands in the air.

Swinging the scope in the direction of whatever it was Steve was looking at, Bucky saw a lot more of nothing. He cursed in English, Italian, and French. Starting in on Russian, he gave up and looked back to Steve, who had put his hands behind his head and was walking toward the train on the main track they’d been planning to blow. The one Dernier and Gabe had disappeared behind. The one the Hydra soldiers had come out of.

When Bucky started in on Irish, Monty demanded, “Sitrep, Sergeant.”

“Steve’s being stupid,” Bucky growled. “He’s… he cannot be surrendering to someone, but that’s. Fuck.”

A trio of Hydra soldiers stepped out of the train into view. Each pointed glowing blue and silver weapons at Steve’s chest. Weapons Bucky had seen vaporize a man first-hand. He could maybe take out one, but all three? Bucky was good, but he wasn’t that good, and Steve no longer had his shield. Why the hell had he…?

There was only one reason.

“Frenchie and Gabe musta been captured,” Bucky said through a throat rough as sandpaper. “Steve just dropped his shield and…they’re marching him into the train.”

“Did they blow the tracks?” Howard asked.

“Did it sound like they blew the tracks?” Jim asked dryly.

“They might have planted the charges,” Dum Dum pointed out.

“And if they blow ‘em now, they’ll go with,” Bucky snapped, not needing—or wanting—to see more. He rolled onto his side and began removing the scope from his rifle. “Fuck, okay, pack it up. We’re moving out.”

“And going where?” Dum Dum asked, but Bucky could hear him putting away the communication gear.

“Tracks curve closer to us than the depot about three klicks to the east,” Bucky said, words clipped. “Right, Major? Train should be headed this way once they get her loaded.”

“Quite right,” Monty answered. “If we hustle, we have a good shot at getting there first. Time for us to return that favor and rescue the Captain.”

Standing, Bucky swung his rifle over his shoulder and took the pack Dum Dum held out to him. To his immense displeasure, Howard was standing by his own gear, binoculars trained down at the depot, likely still looking at the weapons the Hydra soldiers had been carting about. Little good that did them when they hadn’t been fired. If they were to be fired…

Bucky wasn’t going to think about that.

“Mr. Stark,” Bucky said as politely as he could manage, “get a move on. We ain’t got time to spare.”

“I didn’t know you were Irish,” Howard said, lowering the binoculars only to scribble in his notebook. 

Bucky took a long, trying breath. He reminded himself he normally admired Howard Stark. Normally, Bucky thought he was incredible, his inventions and his genius, and Bucky even enjoyed his company. Right now, though, he wanted to punch the guy and leave him on the side of the mountain. 

“Is that a problem?” Jim asked before Bucky had finished talking himself down.

Looking at their communication expert, Bucky had to grin. If anyone understood the prejudice he and Steve had faced their whole lives for being born Irish, it was Jim and Gabe. Neither took kindly to racism, but Gabe was the kind of man who would try to talk reason into you. So was Bucky most of the time. Jim was more like Steve; he preferred to punch his way out of situations.

“No,” Howard answered, as if the question was stupid. The attitude was fine with Bucky because Howard was finally putting his gear into their respective cases, then packing them into his specially designed pack. “I just didn’t realize you were Irish.”

“So’s Steve,” Bucky retorted, not completely convinced Howard was being honest. Most people had some kind of bias toward the Irish. Bucky could count on his fingers and toes the number of jobs he’d either failed to get, or been fired from, when the boss or foreman learned he was Irish. 

“I know.” Howard sounded irritated now. “I memorized his file when he was chosen for Project Rebirth. I just didn’t know you were, too. Thought your family was from Scotland with your name.”

“Well,” Bucky drawled, hooking his thumbs into his belt, “I bet there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Howard paused in his packing, gaze turning to Bucky and sweeping him from head to toe. It was the most blatant look any man had ever given him, let alone in public. In front of other men, no less. If Bucky hadn’t already known the Commandos were all right with him and Steve, he would have worried for Howard’s health. As it was, he felt himself start to blush. It wasn’t because Howard was good-looking, which he admittedly was; it was the sheer daring to so openly appraise him. But Howard was rich, so maybe rich people lived by different rules and could get away with being so obvious.

“I think I’d like to get to know you,” Howard practically purred, and Bucky blushed so red Jim and Dum Dum burst with laughter. It was one thing to be doing the flirting, usually with dames, but another to be on the receiving end. Normally smooth as silk, Bucky was left fumbling for a foothold.

“Careful what you wish for, Mr. Stark,” Monty said somberly, causing Dum Dum and Jim to roll with renewed mirth.

“Shut it, the both of you,” Bucky grumbled. “Mr. Stark—”

“Howard, please.”

“Howard,” Bucky said through clenched teeth, “hurry it up. Hydra ain’t gonna wait all day to load that train.”

“You know,” Dum Dum said conversationally, though his shoulders continued to shake with suppressed laughter, “I didn’t know you could turn that color, Sarge.”

“I think it’s a lovely color,” Howard interjected before Bucky could respond.

“Mr. Stark—”

“Howard.”

“Howard.” Bucky prayed for patience. “You do realize I ain’t a dame, right?”

Heaving his pack onto his shoulders, bouncing it until it settled into place, Howard gave Bucky another long, lingering look.

“I would hope not.”

Dum Dum, Jim, and Monty all snickered. Bucky could honestly say he wasn’t sure this was happening. Between Steve being captured and being openly flirted with by the Howard Stark, it could have easily been a dream. Well, a nightmare. A lot of Bucky’s nightmares these days had Steve being captured, followed by Zola doing to him what he’d done to Bucky.

Another thing he would never admit to Steve.

“Well, Sergeant?” Howard drawled. “Let’s get moving. I believe Captain Rogers is in need of some assistance.”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky turned on his heel and started down the mountain. Monty followed first, then Howard, Jim, and Dum Dum. It was a good thing they were a ways from the depot, as Howard couldn’t have moved quietly if it his life depended on it. Which it might. It was strictly against their orders to bring Howard along to rescue Steve, but Bucky didn’t much care. The other Commandos didn’t either, apparently, since they hadn’t argued with Bucky’s plan. Even Monty, who was usually a stickler when it came to orders, hadn’t said a word.

If Howard realized they were going against orders, he didn’t mention it. Not that Bucky thought he would. They were taking him closer to his weapons; all the better to collect data. Bucky doubted Howard had discerned that also meant getting closer to danger. The SSR’s pet scientist was brilliant, but he sure as hell didn’t show much common sense.

As Bucky ducked beneath another branch, shoes crunching on snow, Jim said, “Careful there, Mr. Stark. That ass belongs to someone.”

Bucky snorted, infinitely grateful for the guys Steve had picked for their team. It wasn’t every day you found guys who not only didn’t bat an eye at two fellas being together, but could also joke about it. Steve and Bucky could be themselves, could be in love, and the Commandos supported them.

Admittedly, Bucky was growing grateful for Howard’s flirting. It was the perfect distraction from thinking about Steve. What might be happening to Steve, what would happen to him if they didn’t get there in time… God, Steve was an idiot. 

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything,” Howard huffed. “Not like she’s here to complain and, you know, a little experimentation is good for everyone.”

Laughing, Bucky shook his head.

“I’m sure it is, Mr. Stark.”

“Howard, please.”

“All right,” Bucky said slowly, “Howard. You know, where I come from, you could never get away with flirting so openly with another man.”

“Things are different for the rich,” Dum Dum declared.

“Not exactly…,” Howard said. “I think what’s keeping my ‘ass’ safe at the moment is Carter and Phillips would know if an accident were to befall me out here.”

“I thought it was my ass that was in danger,” Bucky teased, the words out before he could stop them. It was a bit of a rush, really, not that he was proud of flirting with another guy. Before today, he’d only ever flirted with Steve, or women to keep their cover. Steve had always been incredibly jealous of those flirtations, the dates Bucky had gone on to play the part of the bad boy bachelor. If Stevie knew he was flirting with another fella? He’d lose his mind.

Then again, that might teach him to surrender to the enemy.

“I thought your ass was taken,” Howard tossed back.

“It is,” Dum Dum answered, his voice hard as he scolded Bucky without even speaking to him.

“No one is going to hurt you, Howard,” Bucky said, ignoring Dum Dum and his own guilt. “The Commandos are unique. We found the only open-minded Texan on the face of the Earth.”

“Hey,” Dum Dum exclaimed, “I am not. I’ll have you know, there are many circus folk in Texas, and we’re all open-minded.”

“And flexible, I imagine,” Howard said.

The innuendo nearly had Bucky tripping over his own feet. 

Judging by the sound of his voice, suddenly high with alarm, it had startled Dum Dum as well. “Oh, no, that’s where I draw the line. No flirting. You flirt with Sarge.”

“Happily,” Howard drawled.

Bucky laughed even as he spotted the train tracks ahead of them. They would need a way to stop the train when it got here. He would have just blown the tracks themselves, but they didn’t have the manpower to take on a whole train of crazy Krauts. Stealth would be the key here. Stalling the train, perhaps, instead of stopping it, so they could sneak on board and take the cars one at a time.

“Flirting with the good Sergeant does come with perils, Mr. Stark,” Monty said.

“Yeah?” Howard sounded intrigued. “So you said.”

“My wit is razor-sharp,” Bucky quipped.

Jim snorted.

“The colonel and Agent Carter won’t be able to save you if Captain Rogers catches you,” Jim warned, “not with Sarge flirting back.”

Stopping at the edge of the treeline, Bucky glanced back in time to watch the color drain from Howard’s face. His dark eyes fixed on Bucky, then darted to Jim, and back again. For once, no smart answer flew effortlessly from his tongue, his lips parted with shock.

“That so?” Howard squeaked.

Smiling despite his churning nerves, Bucky shrugged.

“Stevie’s a jealous man.” Letting the smile slip from his face, he looked to the Commandos. “So, ideas on how to stall a train long enough for us to sneak on board?”

Though Howard was hanging back, looking unsettled, Jim, Dum Dum, and Monty marched to the treeline on Bucky’s left and right. No one was smiling anymore—the time for levity had passed. Now it was back to business, because they were all that stood between Red Skull getting his hands on Captain America.

“Dernier had our supply of explosives,” Monty pointed out.

“Don’t wanna blow the tracks anyway,” Bucky replied. “Colonel would lose his mind and we don’t have the manpower for a full attack. Just need to slow it down a bit.”

“Rock on the tracks will tip it,” Jim pointed out.

Bucky sighed, rubbing at his eyes. When he dropped his hand, it was to glare at the white rocks that led to the steel and wooden train tracks slicing through the woods. This was supposed to have been an easy mission. They weren’t supposed to be taking on an entire Hydra platoon, without their supersoldier no less.

“Don’t want to tip it,” Bucky said. “Not with the guys on board. Just…stall ‘em.”

“Gotta be big, then,” Dum Dum said. “Somethin’ small, they’ll hit it simply ‘cause they don’t see it.”

“A tree,” Howard said from behind them. “Trees fall in the woods all the time. Knock one of these suckers over,” his voice was quickly regaining its usual confidence, “and blamo! Train stops, we hop on board, save the day.”

“A big tree,” Dum Dum added.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“A big tree, then,” he said. “Just one little problem with that, Tim.” Bucky spread his hands out, palms toward the sky. “We don’t have a saw. How are you gonna get a ‘big tree’ to fall on the tracks? Push it over?”

Dum Dum looked around, actually considering the idea, when Howard spoke up again.

“I think I can topple one if you lend me a grenade.”

Slowly, Bucky closed his hand over one of the pineapple grenades hanging from his belt, hesitating to just hand over an explosive device with Steve’s life on the line, even to a genius. 

“That’s pretty loud, Howard,” he cautioned, “and if they figure out we blew the thing, they’ll be ready for us.”

Howard grinned.

“I’m not just a pretty face and a burden in need of babysitters, Sergeant Barnes. Let me help.”

Bucky carefully unclipped the green grenade, ringed by a strip of yellow at the top, and handed it over. 

“Sarge, you sure about this?” Jim asked.

“No,” Bucky said, “but I don’t have a better idea, and Stark is a certified genius and weapons expert. I figure we owe him a shot.”

Taking the grenade, Howard grinned cockily at them.

“It’s Howard. And leave it to me.”

When asked later, Bucky couldn’t have said what Howard did with the grenade. What he did know was he asked them to stand back as he dismantled the guts, sawed into the tree with Bucky’s combat knife, and borrowed a cigarette from Monty. Ten minutes later, Bucky was in need of a new good knife (he had a not-as-decent spare), and Howard was ushering them even further away, behind some trees, “Just in case.”

Just in case turned out to be just in time. The tree, nearly sixty feet tall, crashed to the ground moments after Howard hustled them out of sight. The boughs shook, wavered, and shivered. As they stilled, down the tracks came the sound of a train’s horn, distant and inevitable.

“Almost as good as Frenchie,” Dum Dum noted.

“Almost,” Jim hedged.

“Damn fine job, if you ask me,” Bucky said. “Come on, no time to waste. They’ll be at this end to move the tree. We’ll sneak on board while they’re at it.”

“This way,” Jim said, and led the way back down the tracks.

They took cover in the shelter of a small copse, one klick away from the fallen tree. Keeping low, they set about waiting for the train to arrive. No one spoke. There was no more teasing or flirting. Not when they wouldn’t stand a chance if they were caught, not against a full platoon with Hydra’s special weapons. Once again, it was stealth or nothing, and nothing wasn’t an option when Steve’s life was on the line. His life, and worse, because there was no doubt in Bucky’s mind that Red Skull would put Steve on Zola’s table.

Bucky would do anything to make sure Steve never knew what that was like.

Luckily for their plan, the train wasn’t armored. If it had been, it could have merely smashed through the fallen tree without pausing. Instead, it was a common steam engine that they heard well before they laid eyes on its fat, rounded lines. An older model, likely pressed into service by the Germans, though they must have been quite confident in their control of these tracks to use it. Bucky wasn’t surprised, this far behind enemy lines.

Dark grey smoke billowed from the stack, wafting along the train as it rounded the bend and came into view around the trees. The shuffling, chugging sound of a well-maintained machine filled the air as the scent of smoke reached their noses. Two lookouts perched atop the engine itself, easy for Bucky to pick off if he’d wanted, but that would have blown their cover. Though his trigger finger itched, Bucky held himself back and watched the locomotive pass. Boxcar after boxcar shuttled past before the scream of brakes pierced the air. The train slowed, slowed, slowed, and Jim proved to have guessed their position perfectly as the last car stopped in front of their hiding place. 

Holding up his fist, Bucky held the Commandos in position and adjusted his own so he could see along the side of the train. Nothing moved at first, the smoke and steam lifting into the air so it plumed only from the main stack down the line. Eerily and noisily, five of the boxcars slid open and several squads of Hydra soldiers poured forth. Bucky sucked in a breath—there were far more soldiers than they’d anticipated. The one platoon Bucky had seen in the depot was two, and Steve was somewhere on that train, surrounded by the fanatical Nazis. 

When the last soldier rounded the front of the locomotive, Bucky signaled for the Commandos to move. As silent as it was possible to be on a bed of gravel, they darted from cover, across the open land, and behind the train’s caboose. Howard kept up without any instruction, as if he’d been to Basic and through training with the rest of them. Bucky was genuinely impressed, even as he held his breath, waiting for the shout that would mean they were discovered.

When it never came, Bucky used hand signals to move everyone into position: Bucky to the right of the caboose’s door, Jim directly before it, and Monty on the left to yank it open. Smooth and silent, they swarmed through the door. Jim, then Bucky, then Dum Dum and Monty. Howard came last, but by the time he’d climbed inside, they’d disarmed and disabled the Hydra soldiers inside.

Jim’s feet made no sound across the steel floor. The Hydra soldier nearest the door turned in surprise as it opened, but couldn’t even make a sound before Jim was on him. The blade opened the Nazi’s throat as Bucky took out the man at the opposite side of the door. This one had the chance to release a garbled sound before Bucky’s spare knife silenced him permanently. It gave the last three men in the car some warning, but the Commandos held the element of surprise. A Nazi fell to Dum Dum’s rifle butt, another to Monty’s mace, and the last to the knives thrown by Jim. 

“Well,” Howard said as he paused, staring at the death around him, “ah, well done.”

Bucky smirked.

“We ain’t just pretty faces,” he quipped.

The feel of Howard’s gaze dropping down him was becoming familiar, but Bucky hadn’t expected it after helping kill five men. Howard, apparently, wasn’t your average moneybags. The violence hadn’t made him bat an eye—if anything, the efficiency seemed to make him want Bucky more. 

“I bet you’re pretty all over.”

Dum Dum cleared his throat loudly.

Walking past Howard, Monty pulled the door shut. Wordlessly, Jim and Dum Dum began stacking the bodies against the wall so they’d be out of the way. Bucky went to retrieve both his and Jim’s knives from the corpses they were stuck in.

“So now what?” Howard asked.

“We wait,” Monty answered simply, barring the door like the soldiers should have. “When the train moves, we take the cars just like that.”

“Oh,” Howard said, gaze averted out towards where the window would be if there had been a window. “Good plan.”

Bucky wiped the knives clean, handed Jim his, and then settled in to wait. With two platoons of soldiers and German efficiency, they didn’t wait long. Unfortunately, they only found out the track was clear because the radio blared, harsh German words filling the small car. As one, the Commandos froze, staring at the source of the sound. Not a man among them spoke German; that was Dernier’s and Gabe’s wheelhouse, even Steve in a pinch. All three were somewhere else, captured and out of reach. Possibly permanently, if the radio going off meant what Bucky thought it meant: the train commanders were checking in with their rear guard.

The one person present who didn’t freeze was Howard. While Bucky was still trying to scramble for a plan, any plan, Howard crossed to the radio and thumbed the switch.

“Die Luft ist rein. Wir sind bereit fortzufahren,” Howard babbled into the radio receiver.

Collectively, the room held its breath, waiting for whoever it was to respond.

“Übertragung erfolgreich,” the radio barked again.

Setting the receiver down, Howard grinned broadly at them.

“There, see? And you all thought I was useless.”

“Still might be,” Jim muttered, but the train shuddered a moment later, signalling they were moving forward again.

“Ha!” Dum Dum clapped Howard on the shoulder hard enough the scientist stumbled forward a step.

“Indeed,” Monty said, hiding his amusement behind his mustache, “well done, Mr. Stark.”

“Now let’s just hope the rest of this goes as smooth,” Bucky pointed out, sobering the group at once.

No more calls came in on the radio and no one tried to get into their car. Luck, it seemed, was still on their side. They let the train gain speed, knowing the soldiers aboard would relax, giving the Commandos a greater chance to surprise them. Bucky prayed they hadn’t hurt Steve. 

If they had…

Using the rage that washed through him at the thought, Bucky motioned the others to move, and climbed to his feet. He pulled open the compartment door and peered out at the world rushing past at high speed. Wind buffeted his face, tossing his hair out of its carefully combed coif. In moments, his ears were frozen, but Bucky ignored the chill and focused on getting into the next car. Their luck was holding, as it was connected to theirs with a door. 

The side buffers bumped together, pushing the cars apart and widening the gap between them to several inches. Bucky carefully stepped to the next car and looked back. Jim joined him, gripping the handle of the boxcar’s door. Planting one foot on each side of the gap, Bucky nodded, and Jim slammed the sliding door open.

Bucky was the first one through. Crates and boxes had been stacked and chained to the walls, leaving only a narrow aisle. A single Hydra soldier stood between them, walking towards the rear car they had occupied. Already facing them, there was only a moment of surprise and then he was raising his gun toward Bucky’s chest.

Bucky’s knife took him in the shoulder. With the train car's doors closed and the wind whipping past outside, no one would have heard the bastard scream, but a shot would not be mistaken as anything else. Closing the last few feet between them, Bucky grabbed the German’s gun, pulled it forward, and slammed it back into his throat. The masked Hydra soldier fell with a gurgle, releasing his weapon so it clattered at his side. 

Stepping over him, knowing the Commandos would ensure he didn’t come at their backs, Bucky slid open the next compartment door. The train swayed, but he knew how to cross the gap now. Bucky took the left, Jim again the right, and Dum Dum moved into position to be first across the threshold.

When Dum Dum nodded, Jim slammed open the door and he rushed in, using his shotgun like a club, laying out left and right as he went. Bucky and Jim followed hot on his heels, finding the boxcar full of Hydra soldiers. An entire squad from the look of it, not that Bucky had much time to count. With the car packed tight with bodies, the Hydra soldiers couldn’t use their guns for fear of hitting their own men, but that was the only silver lining. The Commandos were immediately in the thick of things, fighting for their lives, outnumbered two to one. Bucky’s knife flashed through the air, the fighting wild and fervent, using every dirty trick he’d ever learned keeping Steve safe in back alleys.

Pain burst through the back of his head as a Hydra goon used Dum Dum’s example and clubbed Bucky, leaving him punch drunk. A black gloved fist flew at his head, and Bucky got an arm up in time to deflect, but not block completely. Pain flared again as his lip split against his teeth. The combination of blows drove him to his knees, vulnerable to the attacks of both soldiers. 

Desperate, Bucky lunged forward and tackled the man who had punched him. They crashed to the ground, Bucky expecting another debilitating blow to his skull at any moment. It didn't come as he slugged the Nazi bastard, or as he hit him again, this time hard enough that his goggles split the skin of Bucky's knuckles. It still didn’t come as the soldier collapsed.

When he rolled over, Bucky expected to see the Hydra soldier bearing down on him at last. Instead, he found Howard, a Hydra weapon in hand, and a Nazi at his feet. As a matter of fact, when he checked the rest if the car, all the goons were down and the Commandos only lightly battered. Dum Dum was leaning against the wall, trying to stem the bleeding from a cut above his left eye. Jim sat against another, and Monty crouched at his side, inspecting the rapidly expanding bloodstain on his right shoulder.

Dabbing at his lip, Bucky took Howard's proffered hand and let him haul him to his feet. The world swayed, and he tightened his grip, holding on until the world stopped moving.

“Gonna make it, Tim?” Bucky asked when he could.

Dum Dum grunted, which meant mostly. 

“Monty? How's Jim?”

“Fine,” Jim said shortly.

“Bleeding,” Monty corrected, “but a compress for now will suffice.”

“Like I said,” Jim grumbled, “fine.”

“Then patch him up and let's get a move on.” Bucky looked to Howard, and dropped his hand from his mouth. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Anytime,” Howard said with a flirty smile that had probably made plenty of dames swoon. 

Unfortunately for Howard, Bucky was privy to the smiles of Captain America.

“Let's keep it a one-time thing,” Bucky said, tossing Howard his own thousand watt smile before turning to Dum Dum, digging his handkerchief out of his pocket and passing it over.

“We're as good as we can be,” Monty announced, helping Jim to his feet.

“Then we're on our way. Jim…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim muttered, “I'll watch the rear.”

Smiling at his friend, Bucky made his way to the door and yanked it open. He ignored the discomfort of the wind chilling him through his coat and focused on the shifting steel beneath his feet. Glancing back, he confirmed the others were ready before yanking back the door. Like before, they rushed in. Unlike before, they froze merely feet inside.

At the far end, Steve was manacled on his knees, making no attempt at escape. The reason was clear, as the guards minding him had their guns trained on Dernier and Gabe, kneeling to each side, hands behind their heads. Steve couldn't free himself and attack before they would pull the trigger. The second the Commandos rushed in, they swung their weapons toward Steve. Apparently they thought the strategy would work the same way again.

Only, this time, they’d left Dernier and Gabe out of the equation. 

The second the rifles moved away from them, the two kneeling Commandos attacked. Knocking the muzzles into the air, away from Steve, they pushed the goons’ feet out from under them. With no reason to stand still, Bucky, Dum Dum, and Monty jumped into the fray. Unlike the last car, this time it was the Nazis outnumbered. The two guards were under control in moments.

As they finished up, Steve stood, snapping his restraints without so much as straining. Bucky finally let himself get a long look at his fella. Steve’s lip was split, mirroring his own. A bruise on his cheek was already fading, but his blue eyes were bright and clear. He moved without any pain, or discomfort, which was still a wonder to Bucky after months with serum-enhanced Steve Rogers.

“Took you long enough,” Steve said to Bucky, smirking as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Much longer and we'd have arrived at our destination.”

“Well, if you'd just got the job done instead of pushing for intel, we wouldn't’ve had to chase down a damn train.”

“Cap,” Monty interjected Bucky and Steve's bickering, “Jim could use a look.”

“I'm fine!” Jim insisted, not that they believed him.

“Sure you are,” Steve said sarcastically. “Sit. Sitrep, and where's Howard?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but Howard spoke up before he did, coming around Bucky and into Steve's line of sight.

“Here,” he said, and Steve did a doubletake from where he'd knelt to pull off the bandage on Jim’s wounded shoulder.

“You brought Howard?”

“Didn't have much choice, if we wanted to keep an eye on him,” Bucky drawled. “While you patch up Jimmy Boy, we're going to uncouple this boxcar and let the Nazis leave us in the dust. Unless you have other orders, Cap?”

“Sounds like you have everything in hand, Sergeant,” Steve said seriously. 

“Not everything,” Howard muttered.

“What was that, Howard?” Steve asked absently.

“You know,” Bucky said quickly, before Howard could repeat the innuendo at a louder volume, “Howard was pretty useful. You should get him reassigned from Phillips. Nice having a genius in our pocket.”

Howard chuckled.

“As much as I enjoyed following you today, I think I've gotten what I came for.” He patted the barrel of the Hydra weapon he'd used to save Bucky's hide. “Think you all’d be much happier if I figured out how these lovelies work.”

A gust of wind signaled Monty and Dum Dum pulling the boxcar’s door open. Moments later, there was a screech of metal and the distinct feeling of deceleration. Monty returned inside and Dum Dum slammed the car door shut behind him. With any luck—and there was no need to think they’d run out yet—no one would notice a few missing cars for a hundred miles. By then, the Commandos would be long gone.

“Huh, you are actually fine,” Steve muttered, grabbing the makeshift bandage and retying it in place.

“Now what, Cap?” Jim asked, never one to gloat.

“Now,” Steve said, retrieving his shield from where it had been stashed, “we hike back to the depot, Dernier blows the charges, and we head home. Together, this time,” Steve said before Bucky could do more than open his mouth, “like we should have before.”

“Can we let the train slow down first?” Jim requested dryly.

“Yes,” Monty chuckled, “we can wait for it to slow down.”

“You hear that, Steve?” Bucky said loudly, “Wait.”

Steve snorted.

“Copy that. Waiting.”

Bucky thanked all the saints when Steve actually listened. They waited until the train slowed to a crawl, then jumped off and took to the trees. Within half an hour, they’d made it back to the train depot. Without a train full of Hydra soldiers, they easily slipped behind through the yard. The explosives were still in place, and Dernier was able to blow them, even as they slipped back into the trees.

Then it was a silent forced march to ensure they wouldn’t easily be followed as they trekked back towards base camp. They didn’t make it before night fell and stopped miles from the depot to set up camp for the night. Normally, Bucky took first watch, but a nod from Dum Dum had his shift covered. Monty was building the fire; Jim prepared dinner as Gabe translated for Dernier so he could question Howard on how he’d blasted down the tree so precisely. Steve was still trying to debrief the Commandos since they finally felt safe enough to talk. However, there was no way Bucky was going to be able to wait until everyone was settled to get his hands on Steve. He set up the tent as fast as he could, then sidled up to their captain.

“Steve, leave the guys be.” Bucky nudged his arm and nodded toward the shelter. “I’ll debrief you, and they can rest.”

No one, except maybe Howard, was fooled by Buck’s intentions. Not even Steve, who was such a good Catholic boy he’d once confessed to Bucky that masturbation made him feel guilty. Steve, who still thought that loving Bucky meant he was going to hell, was obviously debating whether he should fulfill his duties, or follow Bucky to bed. 

“Go on, Cap,” Monty said before Bucky had to resort to drastic actions, “I’ll hold down the fort while the good Sergeant gives you a proper debrief.”

Steve’s ears turned red, but Bucky didn’t give him another moment to think about it. Taking his leather-clad arm, Bucky dragged his best guy into the tent, ducking his head so they could both get inside. It was a little strange that Steve had to as well, but Bucky was finally starting to get used to his guy’s new height. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Bucky snapped, pushing Steve hard enough he fell onto his ass on Bucky’s sleeping bag. “Now hold still. I’m gonna make sure you’re in one piece.”

“What happened to my debrief?” Steve asked, blue eyes dancing with amusement.

“I told you already,” Bucky grumbled, kneeling at Steve’s feet and yanking off his left boot, “You’re a fucking idiot. End of story.”

“That’s not going in a report, Buck,” Steve pointed out mildly as Bucky tossed the boot aside.

“It should.” Bucky started in on the right. “Maybe then they’d send your punk ass home.” 

The right boot joined the left, and Bucky crawled up Steve’s body to work on his star-spangled suit. He had enough experience getting Steve mostly out of the thing that he wasn’t flummoxed by the multitude of buckles and zippers anymore. They were pretty well hidden, since each seam was a weak point, and thus covered to keep a keen-eyed observer from learning Captain America’s vulnerabilities. Despite the effort it took to get Steve in and out of the uniform, Bucky still liked it. Loved it, really. Loved the way it showed off Steve’s new legs, long and lean and muscular. Loved the way it showed off his new broad shoulders, thick biceps, and a hip-to-waist ratio that Bucky had gotten a measuring tape to confirm because it was something out of a fantasy.

As Bucky unbuckled the last buckle and unzipped the last zipper, Steve sat up to help get the uniform top off. When he leaned back, he lifted a hand and threaded it through Bucky’s hair,soothing, offering comfort, which meant he was sorry, even though he wouldn’t apologize aloud. Couldn’t, since doing anything other than he had meant losing Gabe and Dernier. Bucky knew that, but losing Steve…

It was his worst nightmare.

“I’m okay, Buck,” Steve murmured.

Bucky took a shaky breath and glared at his best guy.

“I’ll be the judge of that, punk.”

They had a tent to themselves, guys to watch their back, and they were far enough away from the front lines they didn’t have to fear being attacked. He was going to have Steve naked, a treat they didn’t get very often anymore. 

The trousers were much easier to deal with, but so tight it took some effort to pull them off Steve’s legs. Normally Bucky loved the suit, but today he loudly cursed its inconvenience, and Steve had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Damned punk. Bucky threw the pants across the tent, wrapped his hand about Steve’s half-hard cock and squeezed.

That shut him up. 

Gasping, Steve thumped onto his back. Desperately, he grabbed at Bucky’s wrist, his other clutching at the fabric beneath him. Bucky squeezed again, Steve’s skin velvet-soft beneath his palm, the smell of him already filling the tent: musk and sweat, gunpowder and leather. Once he’d smelled of graphite and paper, but Bucky didn’t mind that change either.

“Skipping all the foreplay today?” Steve tried to sound teasing, but managed merely breathless.

“If you keep bein’ a punk,” Bucky huffed. “Now hold still.”

Squeezing again, Bucky ran his thumb beneath Steve’s tip and watched his eyes flutter closed. Though he held on to Bucky’s wrist, Steve did as he was told for once, lying unmoving on his back. His brilliant blue eyes watched Bucky as he shifted to kneel by his side, still holding Steve’s cock, before leaning over and gently pressing their lips together. If their lips hadn’t been busted, he would have kissed harder, taken Steve’s mouth until his taste was all Bucky knew, but he didn’t want to hurt Steve. He’d just allow it; pretend it didn’t hurt. So Bucky kissed him gently, fingers tight around Steve’s slowly hardening cock so he could feel every strong heartbeat.

Long fingers threaded through Bucky’s hair and a broad palm cupped his cheek as Steve kissed him back. He parted Bucky’s lips with his own, and his tongue swept into Bucky’s mouth and wrapped about his tongue. Moaning softly, he let Steve lead, let him assure Bucky with his pulse, his lips, and his gentle touch that he wasn’t gone. That Bucky hadn’t lost him.

Steve hadn’t died. He was here, safe, with only a few scrapes to show for his efforts. In a day, maybe two, there would be no sign that he hadn’t completed this mission as successfully as every other.

Wrapping Bucky in his new, strong arms, Steve rolled him onto his back, and Bucky’s hand slipped from between his legs. Steve kept kissing him, plundering his mouth, as he stripped Bucky from his uniform. The navy coat, brown combat trousers, and boots joined Steve’s uniform on the floor. The chill bit into Bucky’s skin, but was chased away by Steve’s heat. The man who’d once fought to stay warm in spring was now the only source of heat Bucky needed in the dead of winter, keeping him warm by pressing their bodies together from toes, to hips, to shoulders. 

Steve’s hands wrapped about his waist, the kiss warming up as hot as Steve’s temperature. Holding him in place, Steve slowly thrust forward, dragging his erection against Bucky’s. Gasping, his hands flew to Steve’s shoulders and he held on. That was all he could do as Steve’s lips pulled from his to brush down his jaw, along his throat. He paused at the hollow above Bucky’s clavicle, and licked along Bucky’s collarbone before kissing lower once more and stealing his breath.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped, but his best guy didn’t answer. He fixed his lips over Bucky’s nipple, sucking, flicking his tongue over the nub. Pleasure sparked beneath the onslaught, Bucky’s back arching as he gasped. Electricity shot to his groin as he moved his hands to Steve’s head, fingers slipping between short blond strands to hold him close. Steve rumbled a laugh against his skin and sucked harder.

When he pulled off with a wet pop, Bucky whimpered.

“Hasn’t been that long,” Steve muttered, lips brushing over Bucky’s ribs, down to his stomach, making his muscles twitch.

“Been long enough,” Bucky countered, shivering as Steve’s tongue followed the dip of his hip, “Twelve days. Twelve, Ste—”

Bucky lost his ability to speak as Steve’s mouth closed over the tip of his cock. Back arching, hands clutching at Steve’s hair, he had to hold his breath to keep from moaning as Steve’s tongue traced the head, over the slit, all the while sucking hard. In moments, Bucky was oversensitive, pleasure so intense it was almost painful, and Steve knew. Knew exactly what he was doing, how to play Bucky’s body like a fiddle. He always had, teasing, wanting Bucky strung out on their bed, incapable of thinking of anything, anyone, else.

Oh.

“You know?” Bucky demanded.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve sucked harder, confirming that Steve knew Howard had been flirting with him. That Bucky had flirted with Howard. But Bucky couldn’t speak. Air rushed from his lungs as Steve swallowed him, his hands holding Bucky’s thighs apart as his body arched in the opposite direction, curling over Steve’s head. 

Steve kept swallowing; Bucky’s cock slid down his throat, and it was all Bucky could do to stop himself from shouting. He had always had to hold himself back when he and Steve were together: at home, where the walls were too thin and the neighbors too nosy, and of course here. Yet Steve was still sucking, his throat muscles closing about Bucky’s cock, and it was so good, so fucking good. A large hand cupped his balls, rolling them, squeezing gently, and Bucky had to close his eyes because it was just too much.

When his lungs began to burn, Bucky gasped for air, and Steve finally granted mercy. Sliding off, he lapped at Bucky’s shaft, watching him intently when Bucky opened his eyes. His blue eyes burned, and Bucky knew he would be in for it tonight.

“It was nothing,” Bucky promised. “Just harmless flirting.”

“Nothing, huh,” Steve said, taking his mouth from Bucky’s cock. 

Bucky was as relieved as he was disappointed, but that lasted only as long as it took Steve to crawl up him. The hand on his balls dropped back to his thigh, and Steve was pushing his legs open, then kneeling between them. He kept pushing, super strength allowing him to easily manhandle Bucky as he pleased. Bucky loved it, biting his lip, as Steve pushed his legs apart.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, though the breathless quality of his voice wasn’t that convincing. “You know I only ever got eyes for you, Stevie.”

“Your eyes wander,” Steve argued. Bucky shook his head, but Steve wasn’t in a mood to be argued with. “Think you need a reminder why they always come back to me.”

Twisting to the side, Steve grabbed the little jar of lube Bucky made sure to always keep with his gear. Setting it on the ground, he unscrewed the cap off with one hand even as he was arranging Bucky’s legs with the other. When both Bucky’s knees were hooked over Steve’s shoulders, he leaned forward, lifting Bucky’s lower back completely from the ground. Bucky had no leverage; he was utterly at Steve’s mercy. The position made Bucky’s heart race, beating a quick tempo against his breastbone. Cock throbbing with sudden need, he reached, with trembling hands, to lock his hands behind Steve’s neck. If he had any chance of keeping quiet, he had to hold on to something. 

“Then remind me,” Bucky demanded, his voice rasping from his suddenly dry throat. “Do it,” he demanded, breathless, as Steve pressed a slick finger against his hole. 

Tightening his legs around Steve’s shoulders, Bucky bit down on his lip as the digit pushed inside him.

“That’s it,” Steve crooned. “You always take me so good, Buck.”

With Steve’s finger inside him, Bucky couldn’t chance answering. The slick digit twisted, and Bucky gasped, panting through his nose, as Steve pulled it free again. Immediately it plunged back inside, pushing its way within him, and Bucky couldn’t strangle down the moan that flitted through the night. 

Steve smirked down at him. The finger withdrew, then a second joined it as Steve pushed both into Bucky. Another choked moan ripped free of his chest at the burn and stretch, his body struggling to accommodate the intrusion. Vulnerable as he was, all Bucky could do was feel it as the digits stretched his muscles, forced his body to accept their presence. They pushed deeper, Steve twisting them, so he felt every millimeter, ever last bit of heated skin pressing right to the core of him.

“Twelve days, huh?” Steve asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Yet your body just opens right up for me. Like it missed having me inside.”

“Steve,” Bucky whimpered as his fella curled his fingers upward, pressing against his prostate. With how Steve was holding him, bending his body into a curve, all he could do was take it. Take it as Steve whispered filth and stroked him from the inside, alternating slow and fast. Hard jabs to his prostate, followed by careful, gentle circles that drove Bucky mad. Desperate whimpers dripped from his lips, his fingers scraping over Steve’s scalp. 

A third finger joined the first two, and Bucky strangled a moan, making Steve’s eyes light up.

“That’s it, Buck,” he whispered heatedly, “gonna make you feel so good. Make you come undone. Remind you why you’re mine. Remind everyone why you’re mine.”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, “Steve, we can’t…”

The words were choked off as Steve pressed hard, rapid thrusts against his prostate. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as Steve’s fingers opened him, stretching his muscles, and readying him for Steve’s cock. Then the fingers were abruptly pulled free, and Bucky’s hole closed on nothing, leaving him feeling empty when he’d felt so full.

“Shh,” Steve hushed as Bucky whimpered.

Beneath Bucky’s legs, Steve shifted and his cock pushed against Bucky’s empty hole, brushing it, teasing him with the offering. Bucky shivered, clutching at the back of Steve’s neck as he pushed in. His rim stretched, resisting, but opened as Steve pressed forward. A sob tore through Bucky’s chest as the head of Steve’s cock breached his body, claiming him and pushing slowly inside. 

Drawing out the slide of his thick dick inside Bucky, Steve slid forward leisurely. The prolonged thrust was inescapable, Bucky’s body opening to Steve’s cock as he sank ever deeper. Steve’s hands ran up and down Bucky’s thighs, caressing, massaging, and holding them in place until their hips pressed firmly together, Steve’s cock buried as deep within him as it could get.

“Please,” Bucky whispered, “Steve, please. Give it to me.”

“Soon,” Steve promised, his hands sliding down Bucky’s legs, under his ass, and around his hips. Holding Bucky off the ground, he eased out as slowly as he had eased in. The pace was excruciatingly slow, Steve pulling out until just the tip remained inside Bucky before pushing back in. He did this over and over, until Bucky’s breathing came harsh and fast, his hands fisting in the bedroll while his cock hung in the air, angry red, swaying, and dripping pre-cum.

Gritting his teeth, Bucky managed to hold his silence until Steve pushed completely inside him, then leaned forward, releasing Bucky’s hips so his palms lay flat on the ground. With Bucky’s legs still around Steve’s head, feet pressing against his back, Bucky was bent nearly in half. His shoulders were all that touched the ground, his ass held in the air by Steve’s cock and thighs, and his legs over Steve’s broad, strong shoulders.

“Oh, god,” Bucky groaned.

Steve’s answering smile was wicked and sinful. As unhurried as ever, Steve drew himself free of Bucky, then thrust in hard and deep. The air pushed out of Bucky’s lungs with the force, his hands clawing at the ground, the bedroll, anything, as Steve’s entire length brushed his prostate. 

All pretense of a sedate, long dicking vanished as Steve hurriedly pulled out and thrust back into him. This time, when the air was punched from his lungs, Bucky couldn’t stop the shout that went with it. Eyes widening, Bucky flushed, but Steve was already thrusting into him again. Another sharp shout sliced through the air and Steve moaned.

“God, I love you,” Steve grunted, “Love you so damn much. Makes me stupid, drives me wild, the way you get under my skin.”

Bucky’s hands found purchase wrapped around Steve’s wrists, his heels pressing into the meat of Steve’s back, urging him on. Each thrust forced another cry from his throat, short and aborted as Bucky tried to hold them in, tried to breathe. The harder he tried to stop making a sound, however, the harder Steve fucked him, plowing him into the ground.

When he couldn’t take any more, Bucky reached between them, for his cock, and nearly sobbed when Steve snatched his wrist up. Without pausing the relentless pistoning of his hips, Steve pinned first that wrist, then the other above Bucky’s head. Bucky let him, left his wrists where Steve put them, and felt a rush of pleasure as Steve wrapped his large hand about both at once. Putting all his weight on his other hand, Steve held Bucky down without crushing him, kept thrusting relentlessly into his body.

“No,” Steve grunted, “gonna come like this, Buck. Just like this.”

Frustrated, riding the edge of his orgasm and desperate to catch it, Bucky thrashed and cried out. 

“That’s it,” Steve groaned, “That’s it, sugar. Let go. Let go and I’ll take you there.”

The pleasure was rapidly mounting, burning in his stomach, and Bucky curled his hands into fists. His entire body jolted several inches every time Steve thrust into him, the bedroll bunching beneath his shoulders. Sweat beaded on Steve’s brow, but he didn’t stop, his thrusts relentless as they pushed Bucky higher, further, and Bucky shouted again. Shouted and crashed, body shuddering as he fell without warning, his cock twitching and spurting. 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve grunted, his thrusts stuttering for the first time.

Bucky’s cock kept pulsing, cum spurting onto his chest, his neck, his chin and cheeks as Steve didn’t let him down, held him bent over and took him apart. As Bucky’s cock gave a final twitch and began to soften, Steve came, spilling hot and deep inside him. Groaning, Bucky took it, clenching his thighs and pulling in Steve that little bit further. He was a mess, he knew. He’d made a fool of himself, but he didn’t care, not with Steve still holding him down, coming undone the same as Bucky had.

Dazed, Bucky just moaned as Steve slipped free, then eased his legs to the ground. Realizing his hands were his own again, he reached for his fella and smiled as Steve caught his hands once more, kissing the bruised knuckles of each. He held Bucky’s hands as he twisted away, digging into Bucky’s rucksack.

“You’re a punk,” Bucky managed to declare, but the force was wasted with how weak his voice sounded.

“Am I now?” Steve asked.

Though he pulled a towel from Bucky’s pack, he leaned over and licked Bucky’s jaw and the semen cooling there. Shivering, Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut. God, but Steve knew how to get to him.

“Yeah,” he said, still breathless, “a fuckin’ punk. Whole god damn forest heard that.”

“Good,” Steve rumbled, his voice so low Bucky’s toes curled and his cock gave an interested twitch, “Then the whole damn forest can keep the hell away from you.”

Too tired to roll his eyes, Bucky merely opened them as Steve brought the towel to his chest and wiped at the mess Bucky had made of himself.

“You know,” Bucky murmured, “I don’t just love you because of what you do to me in bed.”

Steve huffed, narrowing his eyes.

“Maybe, but no one else can do to you what I do.”

Curling his fingers about Steve’s hip, Bucky pulled. His fella took the hint, lying down at Bucky’s side as he finished wiping cum from Bucky’s nose. 

“Wouldn’t know,” Bucky said. “Ain’t ever had anyone but you.”

Steve stilled, leaning up on his elbow, blue eyes darting back and forth as they searched Bucky’s for a lie.

“What?” 

Bucky chuckled, lifting a hand and dragging his thumb over Steve’s lips.

“It’s always and only ever been you. You ever gonna figure out that my flirting don’t mean nothin’?” Steve scowled and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, punk, nothing. If we couldn’t ever do this again, I’d still only be yours.”

“‘Til the end of the line?” Steve asked, his voice soft.

Bucky grinned.

“Lines never end, doll, so yeah. I’ll be with you ‘til then.”

“Sap,” Steve said accusingly, his voice sounding thick with emotion. Bending his neck, he kissed Bucky gently, deeply, pulling away only to haul his own bedroll over them, trapping their heat between it and the one beneath them. Smiling—as much as Steve hated talking about his feelings, he was a big softie—Steve curled around Bucky and pulled him close. The same way he had every night they’d been able to since Steve had found him again. The same way Bucky hoped he would for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow Cleo on Tumblr ](http://cleo4u2.tumblr.com/)


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